21 Jump Street: Faberry Style
by JewWitch
Summary: Quinn is a 23-year-old cop with a dark past. While undercover at McKinley High, she meets Rachel Berry, 18-year-old glee star, and sparks fly, despite Quinn's efforts to ignore her feelings and stay on the job. But when a much bigger and more frightening crime goes down at McKinley, where will Quinn's loyalties lie—with her police precinct, or the girl she can't help loving?
1. Chapter 1

Hello my dears!

I got this idea for a Faberry AU, not actually from the movie 21 Jump Street, but from a true story I heard a while back on This American Life about a young female cop going undercover in a Florida high school to make a drug bust, and the innocent, sweet and slightly geeky boy who fell in love with her, thinking she was a real high school student. It screamed, "Faberry me!" And since it's been too long since I've written a new Faberry story, I just couldn't resist! Hope y'all will enjoy.

**Synopsis:** Quinn is a 23-year-old cop with a dark past. While undercover at McKinley High, looking for a drug bust, she meets Rachel Berry, 18-year-old glee star, and sparks fly, despite Quinn's ongoing efforts to ignore her feelings for the dark-haired starlet and stay on the job. But when a much bigger and more frightening crime goes down at McKinley, where will Quinn's loyalties lie—with the police force that sent her undercover, or the girl she can't help loving?

…...

**21 Jump Street: Faberry Style**

**Chapter 1**

…...

"Okay Quinn, here's your school registration, ID and course schedule. All ready for your first day of high school?" Chief Beiste laid the paperwork on the immaculately organized desk of her youngest officer, and gave her an encouraging slap on the back. At 23, Quinn had more arrests and more closed cases on her docket than many other officers who'd been on the force twice as long or more. It didn't exactly help her win any popularity contests among the old boys' club that made up most of the Columbus Ohio police force, but the blonde girl didn't care about that. All she cared about was doing her job, and cleaning up the streets; making sure that what happened to her sister would never happen to another kid in Ohio. Not on her watch.

"It's not my first day of high school, Chief. I _did_ graduate, y'know," Quinn replied wryly, cocking her head with a little smirk as she pulled the documents toward her and examined them.

"_Quinn Fabray_ is a high school graduate," Chief Beiste corrected. "_Dianna Anderson_ is not. Time to get your head in the game, Fabray. No more dress rehearsals." The stocky police chief had a very kind nature, but she also knew how to be tough to get results from her officers. She leveled Quinn with her best 'no nonsense' stare now, trying to gauge—one last time—whether her star rookie was really up to the challenges of going undercover.

"The name's Anderson. Not Fabray," Quinn said seriously; but she gave the chief a little wink. Then she took a closer look at her new driver's license and school ID, and frowned. "Wait a sec, Chief, I think someone made a typo on these. Isn't _Diana_ supposed to be spelled with just one N?"

"Usually," the chief shrugged. "But this is what they sent us, and it's all in the system now. Maybe your fictional parents were hippies or something. Is that really your biggest concern about this operation?"

"No, of course not. I'm ready, Chief. I won't disappoint you." The blonde girl stood up and shoved her papers into her new school backpack, slipping the straps over her shoulders. Chief Beiste's eyebrows went up questioningly.

"What?" Quinn asked defensively, shifting her weight from one foot to the other as she got used to the feeling of having a backpack on her back again, five years after graduating from high school.

"Is that what you're wearing?" The chief asked doubtfully, nodding to Quinn's ensemble of flip-flops, faded jeans and a v-neck t-shirt.

"What? This is exactly how I dressed every day in high school," Quinn shrugged. "I promise you, I look more like a teenager in these clothes than in my detective's button-downs." Beiste sighed and shook her head.

"You're not just trying to pass for a teenager, Fabray. You need to get in with the popular crowd asap, so you can find out where the hell this drug pipeline is coming from. You're not showing up at McKinley High as you; you're showing up as Dianna Anderson, and Dianna Anderson does _not _wear flip-flops to school. You think the band geeks and the Mathletes are gonna lead you to the top dog in the drug chain? Football players and cheerleaders, Fabray. That's who you're cozying up to. And I sure as fuck do not want you showing up for cheerleading tryouts looking like some loner burnout."

_"Cheerleading_ tryouts?!" Quinn whined. The chief just eyed her dispassionately, and sent her to the undercover wardrobe office to change.

…...

An hour later, Quinn stepped out of her beat up red Mustang (the only thing in this whole operation that was actually hers) into the parking lot of McKinley High School in Lima, Ohio. It was far enough away from her precinct in Columbus that she was safe from being recognized; but not so far that she couldn't go back to the station to report as needed. As she locked her car and slung her backpack over her shoulders, she surveyed her fellow students, milling around and showing off their first-day-of-school outfits and greeting each other after summer vacation. "Greeting" might be too strong a word for what some of them were doing, actually.

The blond girl's eyes narrowed instantly as she took in the sight of a pack of thuggish football players in varsity lettermen's jackets, taunting an impeccably dressed, fair-skinned boy, and backing him up against a large, industrial dumpster. Either her gaydar was completely on the fritz, or this kid was about to get gaybashed.

"Quit looking at me, faggot," the biggest and burliest of the football players snarled as the blonde girl approached them from behind, their attention focused on the skinny boy in the Alexander McQueen sweater set who stood trembling but defiant in front of them. To his credit, he refused to run away, or even look away; even though he must have been terrified. Each of the football goons was easily double his weight, and there were three of them.

"Don't flatter yourself, Karovsky," the well-dressed boy said haughtily back to the glowering bully, drawing himself up to his full height and staring the alpha-male jock asshole straight in the eye. "I don't go for sweaty apes in football jackets anyway." The bully—Karovsky— took a step forward, fists brandished. That's when Quinn jumped in between them, hazel eyes blazing. Even though she wasn't wearing her standard issue Glock 42 revolver on her hip, her hand automatically reached for it, forgetting for a moment who she was supposed to be and why she was standing in a high school parking lot without her weapon in the first place.

"Is there a problem here?" She asked smoothly, her voice deadly calm as she covered her tracks by putting on hand on her hip, staring up at the sniggering jocks. A light breeze lifted the hem of her sundress (not _hers,_ really, but one of the many outfits Chief Beiste had forced on her from the undercover wardrobe before she left), showing off a little more of her toned, tanned legs. One of the leering jocks wolf-whistled.

"Damn girl, which cloud in heaven did you fall from?" The head bully crooned, apparently under the impression that he was being charming. "You must be new here, 'cause I _know_ I'd remember seeing you before. You need a tour guide, baby?"

"Maybe," Quinn replied smoothly. "What's your name?"

"Dave Karovsky," the bully replied proudly, puffing out his chest. "Starting linebacker."

"Well Dave Karovsky, now that I know your name, all I need are directions to the principal's office so I can get you suspended for harassment. Or were you just leaving?" Quinn cooed, her lip curling slightly into a sultry grin. She may not be able to cuff this asshole, but watching his face turn red as the other boys sniggered at him was almost as satisfying.

"Bitch," the heavyset boy muttered loudly, turning and walking off without another word. The rest of his jock cronies followed, leaving Quinn alone with the fair-haired boy, who she still had her back to protectively. Sighing softly, she turned to face him.

"Well that's one way to start off senior year," she smiled weakly, taking in the boy more closely now. He had crystal blue eyes and was impeccably dressed, right down to the sparkling brooch on his designer sweater. She admired his boldness; in a small town like this, he had to know this outfit was going to draw attention, and not the good kind. "Are you okay?"

"Yes. Thanks," the boy grinned at her, picking up his messenger bag and slinging it over his shoulder. "That was kind of amazing. I've never seen a popular kid stick up for a fabulously gay glee geek before."

"Well this is my first day here," Quinn shrugged, a genuine smile spreading across her face now. "I'm not popular yet."

"Oh don't worry, you will be," the fair-skinned boy smiled with one eyebrow raised at her appraisingly. She knew that look; it was the same look her gay best friend Marco gave her back home in Columbus anytime he wanted to give her a makeover or take her out dancing. That look that said, "girlfriend, you are a hot commodity whether you want to be or not." Quinn felt herself blush a little.

"Based on those football fuckwads, I'm not sure that's such a good thing," she joked, even though she knew it was the only thing that mattered in reality—she needed the popular assholes to lead her to the drug pipeline coming into this damn school.

"Maybe you can begin a new era," the boy shrugged as they fell into step together toward the school entrance. "With that face and that body, plus the whole new girl mystique, I think you're going to find that you have pull in these halls." He stopped and stuck out his hand formally. "I'm Kurt Hummel, by the way. I'm a senior."

"Dianna Anderson," Quinn smiled without missing a beat, taking Kurt's porcelain hand in hers and giving it a little squeeze. She did have to have friends to fit in at this school, after all, even if they weren't all secretly drug mules. "I'm a senior too. Just transferred here from Columbus."

"Very nice to meet you, Miss Di," Kurt beamed, looking genuinely delighted as he escorted her into the main hallway of McKinley High. "I'm sorry you had to leave Columbus to spend your senior year in this cesspool. But for a hick town, it's not so terrible, really; I'm in Glee Club and Cheerios—that's our cheerleading squad—and we're planning to win two national championships this year, which will cinch my acceptance to Julliard. I'm going to be on Broadway, you know." He raised one hand above his head dramatically, as if there were already a spotlight shining on him from an invisible stage, and gave a little bow. Quinn giggled.

"Well you'll have to save me a ticket on opening night," she grinned. "You're a cheerleader? Thank God I'll at least have one friendly face when I embarrass myself at tryouts."

"Ooh, cheer buddies! We'll be just like Kirsten Dunst and Eliza Dushku in Bring It On. But I doubt you'll embarrass yourself at tryouts; I can tell you have a dancer's body. You've got nothing to worry about, Di, I promise." Kurt winked. Quinn liked the fact that he had already given her a nickname two minutes after meeting her; it helped her flesh out this idea that she really was a seventeen-year-old cheerleader named Dianna, not a 23-year-old undercover cop with a shady past looking for a drug bust.

"Thanks, but I'm still really nervous. Cheerleading's not really my thing...but my mom is, um, forcing me to try out," she shrugged, slightly nervous as she laid the groundwork for the lies she'd have to stick to in the coming weeks and months. It had to come out just right; she couldn't afford any inconsistencies in her story later on.

"I understand, it wasn't really my thing at first either. My first love is Glee Club. But Coach Sue offered me the chance to take the spotlight in Cheerios, and I just couldn't say no. So what do you like, if not cheerleading? What clubs were you in back in Columbus?"

"I ran track and did photography club," Quinn said firmly, which was perfectly true. She _had_ done those activities in high school.

"Well you can do those things here if you want," Kurt shrugged. "But I think you'll be a smash in Cheerios. Santana and Brittany—they're squad co-captains—will cream the second they see you. They're a couple, you know. Officially they're just friends, but pretty much everyone knows the truth. See, this school isn't _entirely_ run by redneck assholes."

"Yeah?" Quinn brightened, then hastily tried to rearrange her face into an expression of mild indifference. Kurt chuckled, but didn't push.

"Yeah," he nodded. "So, Miss Dianna, shall I show you to the guidance office? Miss Pillsbury is a doll, she'll give you a locker and help get you settled in."

"Yes, thanks," Quinn nodded back with a smile. "Thanks for being such a good welcome committee, Kurt."

"Thanks for defending my honor with the football goons," Kurt smiled back. "See you at cheerleading tryouts?"

"Definitely," Quinn smiled.

…...

The rest of the morning passed quickly, as Quinn ran around campus trying to find all her classes, and blend in with the student body while subtly listening in on as many students' conversations as she possibly could. Not that she expected to hear a student say, _Hey everyone, I've got some drugs to sell!_ But still, it was her job to have her finger on the pulse of this school for the next three months, and that meant plenty of eavesdropping.

Almost in the blink of an eye, it was lunchtime, and as she slid her tray down the cafeteria line, Quinn felt surprisingly nervous about where she'd sit and whether anyone would talk to her—like she really _was_ back in high school, all other concerns momentarily forgotten. Luckily, Kurt appeared like an angel of light just as she reached the end of the line, and invited her to come sit at his table, which she gratefully accepted.

"Look everyone, I found a stray and brought her home," he announced delightedly to the group as he sat down at the table and patted the spot next to him for Quinn. "This is Dianna Anderson, new student and future Cheerios star. Di, this is Mercedes and Tina and Mike and Artie and Rachel." He nodded his way around the table, each of them giving Quinn a polite wave or head nod in greeting. When he came around to the last girl—who, coincidentally, was now sitting right next to her—Quinn felt her heart give a spastic little squeeze in her chest, and plummet straight down into her stomach.

"Hi," she managed to squeak, feeling her cheeks flush bright pink as she tried to make equal eye contact with everyone, even though the dark-haired girl sitting beside her seemed to be sending out some kind of psychic-magnetic traction beam that drew Quinn's eyes directly to hers. "It's, um, really nice to meet you all. Thanks for letting me sit with you."

"Well any friend of Kurt's is a friend of ours," the beautiful girl—Rachel—said with a wide, easy smile spreading across her perfectly glossed lips. Quinn grinned back dopily, completely losing track of herself for a moment. "What brings you to McKinley?"

Quinn launched into her cover story all over again; divorced parents, Mom transferred to Lima from Columbus for work, new town, first day of classes, blah blah blah. When she mentioned cheerleading tryouts, the group collectively rolled their eyes, which actually endeared them to Quinn enormously.

"If it's a chance to be in the spotlight you're looking for, Dianna, you should really consider trying out for Glee, too," Rachel said seriously, her dark gaze fixed intently on Quinn, who felt her face flushing pink again. "Several of the top Cheerios are also in Glee Club, and it's an excellent chance to expand your repertoire as a performer. Isn't that right, Kurt?"

"Calm down, diva queen," Kurt rolled his eyes. "Not everyone cool has to join Glee. We don't even know if Di sings."

"Of course she sings," Rachel waved him off dismissively. "I can tell just by listening to her speak. We need a nice, smoky alto to round out our sound this year if we're going to take Nationals. You want to join, don't you Dianna?" She was turning her smile on Quinn again, which made it very hard to form the word _no_ in her brain, let alone actually say it out loud.

"Well...I dunno, I never really thought about it before. I guess I can sing, but I've never actually performed, like on stage," Quinn shrugged shyly. _Drug bust, drug bust_, she reminded herself silently.

"You really should think about it," Mike Chang piped up from his spot next to Tina. "I never thought I'd be the type to join Glee either, I was all about football. But now I do both, and it's pretty awesome. I never knew what a kick-ass dancer I was before." Tina beamed and kissed him on the cheek, while the rest of them laughed and threw popcorn and told Mike not to get too full of himself.

All of Kurt's friends seemed incredibly welcoming and nice, though sadly Quinn could tell right off the bat that these kids weren't going to lead her anywhere productive for her investigation. These were not the popular kids. Still, she had three months of cheerleading hell to eavesdrop on the cheer bitches and football goons, so for now she wasn't going to worry about who she ate lunch with.

Except for the girl sitting beside her, whose hip was brushing hers and filling her entire body with tiny sparks of nervous energy that felt like a million hot peppers dancing around inside her. _Get it together Fabray_, she told herself sternly. _You're not really a teenager. Remember why you're here. Remember Charlie._ That thought sobered her up quickly, and she went back into stealth mode, turning her head firmly away from the sexy jailbait sitting beside her and refocusing on her orders: find the popular kids. Find the drugs. She had to make it through stupid cheerleading tryouts; she just had to. _If only Charlie could see me now,_ she thought with a sad grin.

The jangling of the end-of-lunch bell brought her out of her reverie, and she smiled at her new friends as they all stood and gathered their things for afternoon classes. "What's your next class, Di? I'll walk you," Kurt offered with the same welcoming smile he'd worn all day.

"Um..." Quinn hastily dug her schedule out of her backpack. "AP US History with Mr. Schuester."

"Ooh, me too!" Rachel said excitedly. "We can walk together." She beamed at the blonde girl, who gave a little inward sigh. Being a fake high school student wasn't going to be quite as easy as she'd expected.


	2. Chapter 2

Hi Faberrians!

Thanks for your feedback on part 1, I'm glad to know y'all are digging the concept here. And I'm sorry I couldn't get part 2 posted sooner! I promise I will continue to post as frequently as possible. Plz enjoy part 2!

A/N: Quinn's song in this chap is Titanium by David Guetta. Yes, I am lifting this directly from Pitch Perfect. Enjoy! ;)

…...

**Jump Street: Faberry Style**

**Chapter 2**

…...

By the end of the day, Quinn was exhausted and dreading the inevitability of cheerleading tryouts. If it weren't for Kurt finding her after her last class to show her the way to the girls' locker room, she might have snuck off and just made up some excuse to Chief Beiste about why she didn't make the team. But with her overexcited new friend at her side, the blonde girl trooped dutifully across the football field towards the locker rooms, where she could already see an assortment of girls in red and white uniforms holding fluffy tasseled pom poms as they chatted and stretched by the edge of the field.

Unwillingly, Quinn had a flashback to another high school field; her big sister waving to her up in the stands with a pom pom in her hand, flashing her a little wink before being hoisted to the top of the pyramid. Quinn smiling and cheering along with her middle school friends, so proud to be Charlotte Fabray's little sister. Then, another memory, another day, when Quinn had watched them rush Charlie off that same field on a stretcher, one arm hanging limply over the side in her sequined purple-and-gold cheerleaders' uniform. Quinn had known somehow, staring at that limp arm, that her sister was already dead. She just knew. That night, her parents had tried to tell her that her sister's death was God's will, a hidden heart condition that no one could have seen coming; but even at thirteen, Quinn wasn't stupid. She knew it wasn't God who gave her seventeen-year-old sister a heart attack, but a cocaine habit she'd developed in her last year of high school at the urging of her sleazy jock boyfriend. No one mentioned drugs at Charlie's funeral, or at the memorial they threw for her at the high school; Quinn's father's generous donation to the school athletic facility had made sure of that.

For a moment, Quinn froze at the edge of the McKinley football field, unable to see anything except her sister's limp hand grazing the damp grass as they carted her body away. Kurt stopped short beside her, assessing the blank look in her eyes and the quickening of her breath with a little sideways glance.

"It's okay to be nervous, Di. Everyone is at first. Just take a deep breath, hmm? You'll be smashing, I know it. C'mon, I'll introduce you to Britt and Santana." Kurt smiled bracingly and took her hand, pulling her forcibly the rest of the way across the field, and Quinn tried to shake off the memories of old ghosts and put a little spring back in her step as she followed him. She had to keep herself together; she had to remember why she was doing this. She was going to save these kids. For Charlie.

"Ladies, I bring you an offering," Kurt trilled happily as he flounced into the girls' locker room without a second glance. Based on the lack of a reaction from the half-naked cheerleaders inside, this was not his first trip into the hallowed interior of the girls' locker room, and the simple fact that the girls didn't give him any shit made Quinn feel slightly less nervous about being there herself. A tall, mocha-skinned Latina in a shiny red and white WMHS cheerleading uniform was crossing the room to them, one eyebrow raised speculatively as her dark eyes traveled up and down Quinn's body, like she was a racehorse on the auction block. Beside the dark-skinned girl was a blonde, equally tall and leggy and beautiful, but with a much friendlier look in her light blue eyes.

"Brittany, Santana, this is Dianna Anderson. She just transferred from Columbus, and if my spidey-senses are worth their salt, she'll be the one to watch at tryouts today." Kurt beamed brightly between the girls. Santana's eyebrow raised haughtily, curious but aloof at the same time. Quinn remembered that look from her own high school days; the look of a cool kid working extra hard to make sure no one thought they actually cared about anything. She smirked a little despite her nerves and the bad memories crowding her head.

"Hi," she smiled, sticking out her hand to the dark-skinned girl, who had the alpha-bitch vibe down pat. "It's nice to meet you."

"Another blonde, huh?" Santana sighed in fake boredom, crossing her arms over her chest and completely ignoring Quinn's outstretched hand. "Well we'll see, won't we? Show me something good out there, Anderson, and then we'll see whether you're worth meeting or not." With a flip of her skirt, she turned and left the locker room. The other girl, Brittany, gave Quinn and Kurt a wide smile, which Quinn returned without even thinking about it. _This_ girl obviously wasn't worried about looking cool; she just was, without trying to be. Quinn liked her right away.

"Don't worry about Santi, that's just how she is when you first meet her. But really she's lots of fun once you get to know her. Like a unicorn." Brittany squeezed Quinn's shoulder. "Good luck out there!" And with a flick of her long blonde ponytail, Brittany followed her girlfriend out onto the field.

Tryouts actually weren't difficult at all. Once Quinn got out on the field, she went into a bubble and imagined that it was her sister standing in front of her showing her the moves to copy, like she had for so many years when Quinn was little. Years of gymnastics combined with the intense physical endurance she'd built up at the Police Academy, not to mention an overpowering mental determination to do her job and get deeper undercover with the popular kids of McKinley High, gave her an edge that made everyone on the field stop and take notice. After the group tryout was over, Santana unexpectedly shouted to her, "Hey blondie! Can you do a roundoff?"

Quinn nodded, wiping a bead of sweat from her eyes as the other girls cleared the field around her, and took off running to flip herself into the air—not just once, but three times, just to ensure she impressed the hell out of these bitches. When she stood up, Kurt was cheering wildly, along with the small crowd that had gathered in the stadium to watch tryouts. The blonde girl grinned sheepishly despite herself, enjoying the praise and acceptance of the popular kids in a way she never had when she really was in high school.

"Okay, okay, no need to show off," The Latina smirked, but with an approving look in her dark eyes that hadn't been there before. "Hit the showers. You're in. C'mon Britt, help me get rid of the rest of these losers." Quinn was still grinning dazedly when Kurt slammed into her with an enormous, squealing hug. Maybe being a cheerleader wouldn't be quite as torturous as she'd convinced herself.

When she got back into the locker room, Quinn's giddy feeling of relief was so strong she began singing to herself absentmindedly as she undressed and got into the shower. "I'm bulletproof, nothing to lose; Fire away, fire away. Ricochet, you take your aim; Fire away, fire away. You shoot me down but I won't fall...I am titanium..."

"I _knew_ you could sing!" A lilting voice exclaimed happily as she stepped out of the shower with her towel only halfway wrapped around her body.

"Jesus!" The blonde girl shrieked, leaped back against the tiled wall in surprise as she pulled the towel tighter around her body. "Lurk much?"

"Sorry, I was just looking for Kurt," Rachel smiled her thousand-watt smile again, making Quinn wish very much that she was wearing more than a towel. "But I freely admit I abandoned that goal once I heard you singing. Smoky alto, just as I predicted. We simply _must_ have you in glee club, Dianna." She nodded determinedly, dark eyes shining with enthusiasm. Quinn sighed wearily and wrapped her arms more tightly around her towel.

"I'm sorry, I can't listen to anything you're saying right now on account of being naked and wet," the blonde girl huffed in annoyance. She was _not_ supposed to have crushes on teenagers in undercover ops; and she really did not like the way her heart insisted on fluttering erratically in her chest every time this Rachel girl smiled at her. "Can you please go now? I need to change."

"I'm not leaving until you sing with me," Rachel insisted, dropping her bag on the tiled floor of the locker room and crossing her arms over her chest. "Titanium, right? That's perfect. Keep singing and I'll come in with the harmony above you." Another dazzling smile. Quinn felt her face heat up, and she actually growled in sheer frustration at the tiny girl in front of her.

"Dude, no! Get out of here! I don't even know you."

"Well that will change once you join glee club," Rachel shrugged calmly, tapping her foot. "Nice tattoo, by the way. You're lucky the Cheerios uniform covers it, otherwise Santana would freak." Quinn automatically moved her hand to cover the three small birds flying from her collarbone towards her shoulder. Those were Charlie's birds. Having this girl's inquisitive bright eyes on her ink made her feel even more naked than she had a moment ago. Rachel just raised an eyebrow expectantly. Quinn sighed in resignation.

"I'm bulletproof, nothing to lose; Fire away, fire away," Quinn sang hesitantly. Rachel beamed at her.

"Ricochet, you take your aim; Fire away, fire away," They both sang, and even through her annoyance Quinn couldn't help but be impressed by how good they sounded together. "You shoot me down but I won't fall...I am titanium. You shoot me down but I won't fall...I am titanium..." They both trailed off, grinning at each other now.

"Wow," Quinn murmured shyly. Rachel unzipped her backpack and pulled out a flyer, pushing it into Quinn's shaky hands.

"See you at Glee tryouts, Dianna," the little starlet hummed happily. Then with a saucy little wink, she was gone.

…...

Quinn was still trying to push all her fluttery feelings down into a deep, dark hole when Kurt found her at the locker room exit and insisted on taking her out for coffee to celebrate. Quinn wanted to say no—her first day undercover had already been so jam-packed, she had a ton of paperwork waiting for her back at her newly rented apartment, and, God help her, homework. On the other hand, now that she was officially on the Cheerios, Kurt was a legitimate source she ought to be mining for information. She hoped fervently that this boy wasn't into the drug scene himself; but even so, he'd still be an important source of information from here on out. With a sigh, she agreed, and followed him in her car to The Lima Bean.

"Dianna, this is my studly boyfriend, Blaine Anderson," Kurt trilled happily when they sat on a comfy old couch in the coffee shop where a handsome, dark-haired boy in a suit and sweater-vest was waiting for them. "Hey, you both have the same last name! I wonder if you're distant cousins?" The fair-haired boy smiled brightly. Quinn groaned.

"Yeah, maybe," she shrugged, hoping that Blaine wouldn't start asking her if she knew every Anderson in Columbus. "Nice to meet you, Blaine."

"Likewise," Blaine shook her hand before handing his boyfriend his coffee order. "I didn't know you were bringing company or I would've asked for her coffee order. Dianna, what'll it be?"

"Oh, you don't have to do that," Quinn waved him off, pulling a few bills from her wallet. "I can buy my own coffee."

"Don't be silly, you're queen of the castle today! You don't pay for coffee," Kurt scoffed, batting her hand away. "Dianna has just become the newest member of the Cheerios, and even Santana had her impressed face on during tryouts," Kurt explained to his boyfriend, beaming excitedly. "You should have seen her triple layout, oh my sweet lord. No way we're not going to Nationals this year!"

"Way to go, new girl," Blaine nodded approvingly, as Kurt bounced up to indicate his intention to be the one to buy Quinn's coffee. She chuckled a little at his enthusiasm.

"Okay, okay. Soy chai latte, if you insist."

"Yes ma'am," he grinned back with a wink. Once they were all settled with their drinks, they chatted about school, cheerios and clubs, and which teachers to avoid pissing off; and eventually the subject came around to glee club, which Blaine was apparently also involved in at his own school.

"What's the deal with that Rachel girl?" Quinn asked, now that the subject was safely on the table and she had not been the one to raise it. "She's pretty in-your-face, is she like that all the time? It's kind of annoying. She cornered me in the girls' locker room and forced me to sing with her." She hoped her tone was coming across as annoyed rather than interested.

"Oh, Rachel can come on a bit strong at first," Kurt shrugged, which made Blaine chuckle in obvious agreement. "But it's only because she's so passionate about the things she cares about. Glee is everything to her right now, and believe me when I tell you we will all be seeing her name in lights some day. She's the real deal. And if she thinks you've got talent, she's not going to forget about it. You really should come to glee auditions, Di. It'll be so much fun!" Quinn rolled her eyes. Kurt and Blaine shared a sideways glance.

"What song did you sing for her?" The taller boy asked casually, eyebrows raised in curiosity.

"Titanium," Quinn shrugged. "She sang it with me. It was a pretty sweet harmony, actually. But I don't know, Kurt...she's just so annoying..."

"If she annoys you, it's usually just her way of showing that she likes you," Kurt shrugged, sipping his iced mocha. "Believe me, she's someone worth having in your corner in this place. She's an incredibly loyal and honest friend. Just promise me you'll think about coming to glee auditions tomorrow, okay?"

"You think she likes me?" Quinn asked doubtfully, feeling her traitorous face flushing pink again. Kurt squealed and grabbed her hands.

"Oooh, does someone have a little crush?" the fair-haired boy chirped excitedly. "I knew I was picking up on some vibes there."

_"No!"_ Quinn snapped a little too vehemently. Kurt raised an eyebrow. Quinn closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I don't like her, Kurt. She's way too annoying, okay? Besides, I'm...I'm straight," she muttered reluctantly, hating to go back in the closet even if it was for the sake of her undercover ops. Besides which, she could tell from the look on his face that Kurt wasn't buying it.

"Okay, okay," he shrugged, holding up his hands in surrender. "But if you change your mind...you ought to know that she broke up with her enormous beefcake boyfriend Finn Hudson over the summer, and I have it on good authority that she swings both ways, wink wink. If someone should happen to be interested..."

"I'm _not_ interested, Kurt!" the blonde girl huffed furiously, even though she knew her irate tone didn't exactly convey the casual disinterest she was going for. Kurt's ever-expanding grin didn't help.

"Okay, whatever you say honey. It's not my place to interfere."

"A little late for that," Quinn muttered, rolling her eyes. But then she caught his grin out of the corner of her eye, and couldn't help returning it. Still, there was no way she had time for glee tryouts. No. Freaking. Way.


	3. Chapter 3

Hey Faberry gang!

Thanks so much for all of your comments and favorites and follows. I am so excited to have all of you along for the ride! Here's part 3, thanks so much for your patience. Enjoy!

— JW

…...

**21 Jump Street: Faberry Style**

**Chapter 3**

…...

Quinn tugged nervously on the hem of her fitted cheerleaders' skirt as she stepped out of her car, scanning the crowded parking lot impatiently for Kurt. She tried to ignore the many curious eyes on her as she made her first appearance as a Cheerio; but it seemed like her new red and white uniform was drawing more attention to her than her rash decision to jump between a gay kid and a bully the day before had done. She felt herself shrinking back automatically, slouching her shoulders as the sensation of so many eyes on her made her want to turn around and get right back into her car; as an undercover cop, she was used to being the one to melt into the background and observe everyone _else_, not to be the one being watched. Then a friendly hand squeezed her shoulder, and she felt her entire body relax as she turned to find Kurt beaming at her.

"Oh, thank God," she moaned in relief as she threw her arms around his neck. Kurt chuckled and patted her back.

"There there, my pet. You have nothing to be nervous about; you're fabulous, and they all just want to worship you. Nothing wrong with enjoying it a little."

"Right. Okay," Quinn nodded, relaxing a little as she released her new best friend and stood up straighter, shoulders back. She remembered that she wasn't really the one standing here; it wasn't Quinn Fabray they were looking at, it was Dianna Anderson. And Dianna Anderson was a popular cheerleader who _expected_ people to stare at her. She remembered the head bitch, Santana, and her haughty look from the day before, and she tried to imitate it as she stared around the parking lot, one eyebrow raised in a casual, almost bored way. Kurt laughed.

"Perfect. C'mon Princess Di, let's take you on a glory lap before first period."

Quinn found all of her classes without help this time, as she'd been up till 3am the night before memorizing the school's floor plans and blueprints. She wanted to know exactly where she was at all times, especially if she should happen to find an out-of-the-way spot where drugs were either being bought or used. She took as many bathroom passes as she could get away with, sneaking into every dark stairwell and ladies' room during class time to find the ones where people congregated to cut class.

"Nice uniform. It flatters you. Though I suppose anything would." Rachel's eyes caught hers in the mirror as Quinn walked into the third floor west corridor girls' bathroom, the last one on the floor that she hadn't checked yet. Quinn felt a smile tug at the corner of her mouth, even though she'd promised herself she'd remain indifferent the next time they met.

"Thanks," she replied shyly, chewing on her bottom lip a little to stop the grin from getting any bigger. "I'm still getting used to it. I feel like a show pony or something."

"That's an erroneous analogy," Rachel shook her head, putting away the eyeliner she'd just been touching up, and turning to face Quinn with a sultry grin of her own (which she was making no effort to hide whatsoever). "A show pony is put on display by its owner, and it only goes where the owner instructs it. You, Dianna, have no owner—though Coach Sue will try to make you forget that soon enough. Remember you're doing this for you, not for them, and soon the stares won't feel so intrusive." The dark-haired girl cocked her head to one side, studying Quinn's serious hazel eyes in silence for a moment. "You _are_ doing this for yourself, and not for someone else, aren't you?"

"Of course," Quinn lied, releasing her lower lip from between her teeth and smiling brightly, the way she'd been practicing in the mirror all morning. "It's just first day jitters. I'm cool."

"Good to know," Rachel nodded, a little smirk playing at the corner of her mouth like they were in on a joke together. Quinn wanted to take a step closer; and at the same time, she wanted to turn and flee. But then she remembered that she was the one who'd just come into the bathroom, and she couldn't very well just turn around and walk out again with no explanation. Awkwardly, she pulled a tinted lip gloss from her zippered pocket, and stepped up to the mirror beside Rachel to touch it up, looking determinedly straight ahead. After a moment, the dark-haired girl broke the silence.

"So, what are you singing at glee tryouts today?"

"I never said I was coming to glee tryouts, Rachel," Quinn huffed, feeling a flash of annoyance cut through the tingly feeling in her stomach. Damn, this girl was just so _presumptuous!_

"All right, all right, don't tell me. It'll be more affecting if it's a surprise, anyway." Rachel caught her eye in the mirror again, giving her a smile that Quinn felt all the way down to her toes.

"You're impossible, you know," Quinn shook her head, refusing to return the smile this time as she shoved her lip gloss back in her pocket and turned to leave the bathroom.

"See you at tryouts!" Rachel called after her, not seeing the blush that spread across Quinn's face as she turned and walked away.

…...

When three o'clock rolled around, Rachel was genuinely surprised not to see Dianna's name on the sign-up list for glee auditions outside the auditorium; but she couldn't ignore the dozen or so other hopefuls that stood waiting eagerly for their chance to impress her, Kurt and Mercedes, this year's glee club captains. So she settled herself in a seat between her two best friends, and called the first name on the sign-up sheet. As the overeager sophomore hurried out onto the stage, Rachel casually turned to Kurt and asked, "I thought your friend Dianna was trying out?"

"She never said she was trying out, Rach. _You_ said she was trying out," Kurt chuckled, sharing a knowing smirk with Mercedes as Rachel huffed and blew her bangs back from her face. "Disappointed?"

"Of course I'm disappointed, Kurt. I'm looking out for the best interests of the team here."

"Right. The team," Mercedes agreed, trying to keep the grin out of her voice. The three of them sat patiently for over an hour listening to auditions, which ranged from pretty good, to not terrible, to please close your mouth right now and never open it again unless it's to chew your food. They didn't technically _need_ any new members this year; they had 12 members, enough to qualify for competitions, but Rachel still felt strongly they needed a lead alto who could stand up to her in duets. Sadly, none of the girls they'd seen in the last hour were coming anywhere close to the bar she'd set.

"Thank you. We'll let you know," Mercedes called out to the last singer as they came to the end of the list; and the three glee co-captains looked at each other with the same glum expression. That was when Rachel turned and caught sight of Quinn's blonde ponytail and shy hazel eyes standing awkwardly in the doorway of the auditorium.

"We have one more audition to hear," the dark-haired starlet grinned as she grabbed Kurt's hand and squeezed it hard. Kurt and Mercedes followed Rachel's line of vision to see Quinn standing in the doorway, and they smiled too, waving her down towards the stage.

"Cutting it a little close, aren't we?" Kurt asked teasingly, glancing down at the sheet music in her hands as she approached.

"I know, I'm sorry. I wasn't sure I was gonna come, and then when I finally decided, I had to run to the library and find some sheet music. It's okay if I use the piano, right?" Quinn dropped her backpack on one of the empty auditorium seats, shifting nervously on her feet.

"Of course, mama. Show us what you got," Mercedes smiled encouragingly. Quinn smiled weakly back, looking much more nervous than she had the day before at cheerleading tryouts. She sat at the piano, placed her sheet music in front of her, and began to play. Rachel recognized the song instantly; and when the blonde girl began to sing, the little starlet completely lost track of herself and just stared, a goofy grin on her face.__

_Your faith was strong but you needed proof__  
><em>_You saw her bathing on the roof__  
><em>_Her beauty in the moonlight overthrew you.__  
><em>_She tied you to a kitchen chair__  
><em>_She broke your throne, and she cut your hair__  
><em>_And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah..._

When Quinn finished playing, the three glee captains all stood up and clapped excitedly, giving the blonde girl a standing ovation. "You didn't tell me you could play the piano, you minx," Kurt scolded teasingly, as Quinn left the stage and came back down to where they were seated. She shrugged shyly.

"That was beautiful, Dianna," Rachel beamed.

"Thank you," Quinn shrugged modestly, fidgeting a little with her hands. Her automatic impulse when she was nervous was to stick her thumbs through her belt loops; but in her new cheerios skirt, she didn't have any. She looked from Rachel, to Kurt, to Mercedes, and felt her face warm up with a blush at how they were all grinning at her.

"So, are you up for it?" Rachel asked bluntly. "We need you if we're going to be national champions this year." Quinn chewed her lip, briefly struck by a pang of guilt for how she was misleading her new friends. She wasn't going to be here for Nationals; she'd only be a McKinley student for as long as it took her to bust up this drug ring that was destroying the school. Then she'd be back in Columbus, back to her own life. She couldn't lead them on like this. But, then her sister's face flashed into her mind; and she looked back up at Rachel, those dark, enchanted eyes staring back into hers. She couldn't imagine this girl was in any danger of getting hooked on coke or speed or meth...but, then again, she'd thought the same thing about Charlie, right up until it was too late. She couldn't let that happen to Rachel, or to Kurt. It was her job to protect these kids. That's why she was here. And to do her job, to find the drug mules at McKinley High, she had to play her part.

"I'm in," she nodded.

"Yay!" Rachel squealed, throwing her arms around Quinn's shoulders and squeezing her tight, jumping up and down until the blonde girl started laughing and disentangling herself.

"Okay, okay," Quinn laughed, tucking a lock of hair back behind her ear that had fallen out of her ponytail.

"Congrats, girl," Mercedes smiled, giving her arm a squeeze before turning to gather her books and hustle out to meet Tina for their shopping date.

"Well I hate to cut the party short, but we have to be on the football field in ten minutes, Di, and Coach Sue expects us to be stretched and warmed up before we start," Kurt sighed, slinging his messenger bag over his shoulder. "We'd better get over there pronto if we don't want to spend our first day doing wind sprints."

"Yeah, okay," Quinn nodded, but with a sideways glance back at Rachel, wishing, for some reason, that she had an excuse to stay behind a few moments longer, just the two of them. "I guess I'll see you at glee rehearsal tomorrow, Rachel," she said, giving the smaller girl a smile that she hoped showed only polite indifference.

"Yes, of course. We'll be starting off with last year's Nationals set, since everyone else already knows it. If you want, you could come over to my house after cheerios practice tonight and I could teach you your part."

"Sure, that would be great," Quinn beamed, forgetting to chew on her lip this time.

"Splendid," Rachel grinned back. Kurt coughed in an obviously fake way, and tugged impatiently on Quinn's elbow.

"Come on Di, we've got to go _now_, or you'll be spending the hour after practice running laps with Coach Sue's megaphone in your ear," the fair-haired boy huffed impatiently.

"'Kay, I'm coming," Quinn nodded, picking up her own bag with one last shy grin for Rachel over her shoulder. "See you after practice, Rach." She hadn't meant to be so familiar with the other girl—who she still hardly knew—but the shortened, affectionate nickname had just slipped out somehow. The other girl didn't seem to mind, if her dazzling grin was any indication.

"See you later, Di," Rachel smiled back. As Quinn hurried along after Kurt to the football field, it was Rachel's smile that filled her mind and warmed the pit of her stomach, even as Kurt was poking her gleefully between her ribs and squealing at her about glee and cheerios and Coach Sue. Even as she struggled to balance the immediate needs of glee and cheerleading practice, with the part of her brain that was always aware and alert for any clues to her _real_ assignment at McKinley High, another part of her brain was busy replaying Rachel's smile, over and over, when the other girl had asked her to come over after practice.

She was still grinning like an idiot when Santana's sharp yell of _"New girl! Here, now!"_ cut through the fog of her happiness; and she tightened her grip on her backpack and sprinted the rest of the way onto the field.


	4. Chapter 4

Hello Faberrians!

I am so, so, so sorry for the long delay on this chap! I plead holiday madness. (Really, my family was all crazy busy, and there was travel involved). I hope y'all didn't think I forgot you or this story. I did not! Please enjoy, and I promise the next chap will be more timely. And now, on to Faberry time!

…...

**21 Jump Street: Faberry Style!**

**Chapter 4**

…...

Quinn parked her car in front of the neat 2-story colonial house that matched the address written on the little scrap of paper in Rachel's perfect, bubbly letters. The blonde girl cut the engine and looked at herself in the rearview mirror for a few moments; first to check her makeup, then to scold herself.

"You're on the job, Fabray," She murmured quietly in the mirror, giving herself a very stern look as she stared back into her own hazel eyes. "No flirting unless it's for information. You're not a googly-eyed teenager, so stop acting like one." In fact, Quinn had _never_ been a googly-eyed teenager; her own high school years had been spent brooding under the bleachers, smoking cigarettes (a habit she'd thankfully quit a long time ago) and generally being mad at the world.

With a little nod of determination, she stepped out of her car into the balmy suburban street, smoothing her Cheerios skirt as she skipped up the steps to the Berrys' front door. When she rang the bell, a little burst of nervous energy welled up in the center of her chest, and she took a deep breath, crossing her arms impatiently over her chest to try to force it back down. _What the fuck is wrong with you?_ She cursed herself silently, shaking her head in chagrin. That was when Rachel opened the door, and the little knot of nerves in the center of Quinn's chest seemed to crack, and spread all the way through her body, dissolving into her fingers and toes.

"Hello Dianna," Rachel beamed, opening the door further and stepping back rather formally to invite the blonde girl into her house. "I'm so glad you could make it. Please come right in."

"Thanks," Quinn smiled back shyly, stepping over the threshold into the warm, inviting little house. Right away, she couldn't help comparing it to her own parents' house; where the Fabray house was cold and beautiful, like a museum, the Berry house was warm and alive, and currently full of delicious smells wafting in from the kitchen. Family pictures were everywhere; not the formal, stiff portraits that Quinn's parents had always insisted upon, but candid shots taken from actual real life. Little Rachel climbing an apple tree, smiling down at the camera with that same dazzling grin Quinn had seen so much of the last few days. Little Rachel in a tutu, on stage at a ballet recital; little Rachel sitting on the couch between two men, totally absorbed in a book of fairy tales as one of the men appeared to be reading while the other one cuddled her.

Rachel noticed her looking at the family photos, and stepped up beside her, carefully assessing the blonde girl's reaction. "I told you my dads are gay, didn't I?" she asked innocently.

"No," Quinn shrugged, a little surprised, but obviously not put off by the news. "They look nice. You...you all look happy."

"Yes, well, perks of being an only child," Rachel grinned back, with a slight roll of her dark brown eyes. "I'm afraid I've been rather spoiled all my life, if you couldn't tell already. What about you—any siblings?"

"I...no," Quinn shook her head, looking away from the happy family photos as she felt the sting of tears unexpectedly in her eyes. She didn't cry about Charlie anymore. She didn't cry about anything anymore, and certainly not in front of random girls she barely knew. Rachel, sensing she'd touched a nerve, hastily changed the subject.

"Well, come on then, let's go upstairs. Can I offer you a libation? It won't do to begin our vocal warmups if you're parched from cheerleading practice."

"Sure," Quinn smirked a little, charmed out of her momentary sadness by the other girl's quirky, oddly formal speech patterns and the way she was just so attentive. Rachel may have grown up spoiled, but obviously it was the right kind of spoiled—the kind that made her want to give her happiness to others, rather than demand it all for herself. Because she knew there would always be more.

Rachel lead Quinn down the short hallway to the kitchen, where one of the men from the family photos—the slightly shorter one, with curly, greying hair and sparkling blue eyes—was bent over a bubbling pot of tomato sauce, stirring and singing to himself and wearing a _Kiss the Chef _apron. He looked up from his cooking at the sound of their footsteps, and gave them both a very kind smile.

"Well who do we have here?" he asked, laying down his wooden mixing spoon beside the pot and wiping his hands on his apron.

"Daddy, this is Dianna. She just transferred from Columbus, and she's the newest member of the glee club."

"Lovely to meet you, Dianna," LeRoy Berry reached out and shook her hand. "Do you girls need a snack before dinner? It will be at least another hour."

"Oh, I'm fine," Quinn shook her head, unused to being offered these kinds of small kindnesses. In her real life, she'd been taking care of herself for a long, long time. Even before she'd left her parents house.

"You sure?" Rachel raised an eyebrow skeptically as she pulled two water bottles from the fridge. "I know what Coach Sue's workout routines are like. Can't have you keeling over from low blood sugar in the middle of a verse."

"Really, Rach, I'm fine," Quinn smiled, cocking her head to the side. It was such a genuine smile, it made her hazel eyes sparkle, and Rachel couldn't help but smile back. LeRoy noticed the way they were smiling at each other, but didn't say anything; instead he just grinned into his tomato sauce.

"Okay," the little starlet shrugged giddily, handing over one of the water bottles and keeping one for herself. "We'll be upstairs rehearsing, Daddy!"

"Have fun, girls!" LeRoy called after their retreating forms; but Quinn barely heard him. She was too focused on Rachel's hand slipping into hers, pulling her down the hall and up the stairs.

They arrived in a bright yellow bedroom with a canopy bed and a large vanity mirror; and suddenly, Rachel became even more formal than usual, instructing Quinn on how to stand and how to breathe before even getting to the warm-up exercises. Then she whipped out a digital stopwatch and set the timer to 15 minutes. Quinn chuckled.

"Olympic vocal warmups, huh?" the blonde girl teased gently. Rachel huffed indignantly and blew her bangs back from her face.

"Just because the vocal muscles can't throw footballs or twirl batons doesn't mean they're not working hard, you know," the dark-haired girl lectured, suddenly looking very stern as she put her hands on her hips. "Proper warmups are a crucial part of a vocalist's strength, endurance and projection. And furthermore..."

Quinn couldn't help it; she began to giggle. Rachel was just so _serious_ all of a sudden, and it was such a sharp contrast to the cartoonishly cheerful vibe of her canopied bedroom, and she was just so gut-wrenchingly adorable as she tried to be stern. The blonde girl's giggles completely derailed the little diva's train of thought, and the lecture on the importance of vocal warmups came grinding to a halt. Rachel bit her lip, trying to hold back a grin. She didn't want to reward this bad behavior.

"You're such a brat," the dark-haired girl giggled, smiling hugely.

"You're such a bossypants," Quinn countered, smiling back. When both of their giggles subsided, there was a moment of awkward silence between them; then the timer beeped, and Rachel leapt forward and began teaching Quinn their first warm-up.

Nearly an hour later, Quinn was flushed-faced and breathless, and had to admit that singing, when done properly, was indeed a physically exerting activity just as Rachel had warned her. She'd learned her parts for two of the three songs she'd been given, and she thought she sounded pretty damn good, considering how spontaneous this whole glee club thing had been, and how unprepared she was; but Rachel still wasn't quite satisfied.

"That's good, Di, it really is. But it's not _resonant_. You need to sing out from your diaphragm in order to project from your lower register."

"I don't know _how_ to sing from my diaphragm," Quinn whined, feeling tired now and irritable at how meticulous Rachel was being about all this singing business. "I just know how to sing from my mouth."

"Oh, dear...I'm going about this wrong," Rachel sighed, shaking her head as she took a step closer to the blonde girl. "You're so talented, Dianna, really you are, I just keep forgetting that you don't have any formal training. I'm sorry, please allow me to demonstrate."

"Well shucks, when you say it like that..." Quinn teased gently, some of the sparkle coming back into her eyes. Rachel's olive skin flushed slightly pink.

"Okay, so...when you sing from your diaphragm...you're using these muscles here." Without warning, the little starlet took Quinn's hand and pressed it over her own stomach, just above the bellybutton. Both of her hands held Quinn's hand against her skin. Then she sang out three clear notes; low, high, low, so Quinn could feel the difference in her stomach muscles.

"There, you see?" Rachel asked gently. Quinn just nodded, suddenly feeling very shy. "Now you try," the dark-haired girl encouraged, letting go of Quinn's hand over her stomach, and slipping her own hand lightly under Quinn's Cheerios top, resting her palm over Quinn's bellybutton in the same way. They were standing less than a foot apart. Hesitantly, Quinn slipped her own hand over Rachel's, holding it against the bare skin of her stomach; and then it was like the rest of the world fell away completely. No past, no future, no drug bust, no dead sister, nothing. Everything that existed was right here in front of her, this girl with the piercing brown eyes and the voice of an angel, one hand on her stomach, thumb rubbing lightly over her bellybutton now. It was such an innocent touch, but it lit up Quinn's whole body in a way she'd never felt before. She felt so connected to Rachel in that moment, so impossibly close, so safe...like nothing bad could ever, ever happen to her as long as this girl was touching her. Vocal exercises completely forgotten, Quinn leaned in and cupped her free hand to Rachel's cheek; and Rachel automatically tilted her chin up, eyes wide, with absolutely nothing to say for once.

"It's okay if I kiss you, right?" Quinn whispered, leaning her forehead against Rachel's.

"Yes," Rachel nodded breathlessly, leaning up on her tiptoes in anticipation. Quinn closed the short distance between their lips, and what little was left of the world melted away.

They had somehow managed to migrate from the middle of the room to Rachel's canopied bed (though they stayed on top of the sheets, and still had all their clothes on) when a soft knock on the door made them spring apart like an electric shock. Quinn actually fell over backwards in her haste to scramble off the bed.

"Girls? Dinner's ready," LeRoy smirked a little too innocently when he popped his head in. "Dad just got home from work, honey, so you can both have a few minutes to, uh...freshen up." He grinned, and Rachel threw a pillow at him. Quinn's face flushed even redder than it had been a minute ago.

"Mr. Berry, I...I..." Quinn stammered adorably. Rachel squeezed her hand reassuringly, and gave her a crooked grin.

"You can call me LeRoy, honey," Rachel's dad chuckled. "And I'll make this easy for you, all right? My kid likes you, so I like you. Simple as that. Break her heart, and we'll be having a very different conversation. Capiche?" Quinn just nodded dumbly. "All right then, dinner's in five. Get yourselves straightened up, girls. Heh." He winked, and Rachel rolled her eyes.

"You're not funny!" She called after him as he left the room. Then she turned back to Quinn, beaming. "Wow, Di. He really likes you."

"Really?" Quinn raised an eyebrow doubtfully. "How do you know?" Certainly, Rachel's dad had been gracious, but she'd assumed that was due more to his own good manners than anything she'd done.

"Because..." Rachel scooted off the bed and wrapped her arms around Quinn's neck, leaning in to kiss her lightly on the tip of her cute little nose. "He always made Finn call him Mr. Berry."


End file.
